The Best Part of Me
by murphycat
Summary: SEt after the 8 year separation, our dynamic duo is threatened by something they could never have predicted.
1. Chapter 1

**My first Perry/Della fic so be gentle with me; I just want to play for a while.

The Best Part of Me 

Chapter 1

Della came awake with a startled jerk. Beside her, Perry Mason, her boss, lover, companion, and best friend, for nearly 40 years, still snored, oblivious to anything that might have occurred to wake Della. Smiling to herself, she knew he had reason to be tired.

Again, she heard a noise. Her cat, Festus? He did have a bad habit of dragging in late looking quite the worse for wear, sometimes bringing the "prize" of a dead mouse or a lizard. Even after he had been neutered, it hadn't stopped his late night walk-abouts.

She rose from their warm bed, and after slipping on her bedroom shoes and light robe, Della made her way downstairs. Getting to the first floor, she called, softly, "Kitty, kitty."

Suddenly, Festus ran so quickly from the kitchen, across to the living room and to his basket in front of the fire, that he slid sideways, almost colliding with a chair.

"Good grief, you silly tomcat, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" she scolded softly. As long as she was downstairs, Della decided to get a glass of water. She entered the kitchen and froze in her tracks when the broken glass on the floor glittered up at her in the soft light. The window right above the door handle was smashed inward, with pieces all over the floor; fortunately, no one could break inside because the locks were keyed on both sides, and the inside one had been removed as a safety precaution for years and was hung on a peg beside the kitchen door. Now, she thought, it had paid off.

Della Street turned to go back up to the second floor to wake Perry and tell him what had happened, but as she turned, two strong hands gripped her arms above the elbow and held her in grip like a steel vise.


	2. Chapter 2

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 2

Della lost her breath for a couple of seconds until she recognized the large man in front of her.

"Are you _trying_ to give me a heart attack, Perry?" She leaned her head against his chest to recover from the fright he had given her.

Perry Mason's entire body shook with low laughter, "Of course not, Della, but I was worried when you didn't come back. Are you alright? I know I surprised you in the dark, but it shouldn't have scared you this much."

Della raised her head, and in her sultry voice said softly, "Actually, I was coming back upstairs. It looks as if someone has tried to break in through the back door. At first I thought it was Festus," she led him by the hand into their kitchen, "but look," she said, indicating the broken glass. "That wasn't Festus."

"No, it wasn't, Della," he turned and gave her a reassuring smile, "Would you please call the police so we can report an attempted burglary?"

She nodded and reached for the kitchen phone, while Perry stepped carefully over the glass and peered through the other panes to see outside. The automatic light wasn't on right now, but it only had a setting of two minutes unless there was something or someone directly in line with the sensor.

"The police are on their way, Perry. I asked them not to use lights and sirens and wake the entire neighborhood."

Perry Mason, criminal lawyer and legend, smiled down at the love of his life, literally almost his entire adult life. "Good idea. Why don't we get dressed before they get here?"

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"Sir, we have taken fingerprints off the storm door as well as any on the glass. We will run whatever we find through CODIS, once we eliminate you and Mrs. Mason," said the young deputy with "Carter" on the medal ID that he had pinned to the left side of his uniform shirt.

Della asked, "Did you find anything disturbed outside?"

"No, ma'am. There was a chair turned over on the lawn that the perp may have run into and turned over running away from the house when the motion light kicked on. We'll check that for prints, as well," Deputy Rosen answered. "I wouldn't get my hopes up, though. In crimes like this gloves are usually worn and we won't have a lot to go on."

Deputy Carter added, "We will have extra patrol cars going by here for the next few days, and if anything else happens, sir, ma'am, give us a call."

Perry walked them out and thanked them for their efforts, then after locking the front door, he heard Della sweeping up the glass in the kitchen.

He walked into the brightly lit and homey room and watched her until she was finished, then took the pan from her hand and emptied it into the waste basket. Taking the broom from her as well, he placed them into the kitchen closet.

Della was looking out the window onto the backyard and Perry came up behind her and wrapped his bear-like arms around her. Leaning down and nuzzling in her hair behind her ear, he whispered, "Are you okay?"

She took a deep breath before she spoke. "Well, I'm not thrilled, Perry. Actually, I'm a little unnerved. We will have to be more conscientious about setting our alarm from now on." She grew quiet for a few minutes as they stood looking at the darkness. "I suppose I like to feel we're safe here in our quiet, _good_ neighborhood, but….times change, don't they?"

Della's voice was quiet and her demeanor was vulnerable. Perry turned her around to face him.

"Listen up, _Mrs. Mason," _Della smiled, and then he continued, "We _are_ perfectly safe here. It is a good neighborhood, and we have an alarm to warn us of things like this in the future. And, furthermore, you should have wakened me when you heard something instead of traipsing down here alone, young lady," Perry tried to give her a stern look but failed and instead kissed her brown and silver hair, still mussed from sleeping. "Got it!"

"Got it, Chief," she saluted smartly before she headed back up the stairs. "I'll let you set the alarm—and be quick about it. Since I'm already awake…." Della shrugged and gave him a sweet sexy smile that hinted of things to come.

"I'm on my way, dear. On my way," Perry said, hurrying to secure their home before heading upstairs.

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The next morning, while Perry and Della were eating breakfast and perusing the paper, there was a rat-a-tat-tat on the back door.

"Come in Paul," Della called.

Paul's infectious smile and good nature was always welcome to Della. The young man stopped to give his second mother a warm hug, while verbally admiring the couple's breakfast.

"I suppose that means you're hungry," Perry said gruffly, from behind his paper.

"Peerrry!" Della admonished him. "Of course he's hungry. What would you like, dear? Scrambled eggs, toast, and some bacon. It's all still warm?"

Paul, Jr., gave her his most charming smile, "Della, don't go to any trouble on my part," as she was already moving to get his breakfast together.

Getting down to business, Paul turned to Perry, "What do you need, Perry? You sounded a little annoyed on the phone this morning." Paul smiled at Della as she set his food down.

"You gentlemen enjoy breakfast; I'll be right back," Della said, pausing long enough to place a hand on his shoulder and ask Perry if he needed anything. Paul watched as the light in the older man's eyes came alive when Della was near.

"No, Della, I'm wonderful. Better than wonderful," Perry said, taking her hand and kissing it gently.

Paul could have sworn he saw Della blush as she turned to go upstairs. As soon as she was out of the room, Perry's demeanor changed.

"Someone tried to break in last night," Perry said. "I want you to find out who and why."

"Did you call the Sheriff's Department," Paul asked, between bites.

"Yes, Paul, we actually thought of that, and they came out and performed their perfunctory tasks," Perry closed the paper and placed it down beside him.

"You do realize this was probably just a random B & E, right?"

Leaning closer, the large man's blue eyes snapped with energy and anger. "I don't care what it was. Della was frightened and could have been hurt. She came downstairs alone, apparently right after it happened, and it could have been much worse." Perry moved back and picked up his coffee cup.  
"So find the who and the why and get back to me. Nobody, no one, threatens Della. Not even indirectly. Got it?"

Paul swallowed the last of his juice that Della had poured. "Yes, sir. And I agree. If there is anything to find, I'll find it." He rose to leave. "Tell Della I had to run and thanks for breakfast."

As he reached for the door handle, Perry spoke once more. "Paul….check the parole and release records for the last six weeks or so. See if there is anyone of interest on it."

"Will do."

After Paul left, Perry Mason sat looking out the window watching the birds on the numerous feeders he and Della provided, but his blue eyes reflected a mind that was far away and moving fast.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Best Part of Me**

Chapter 3

**The next morning…

"Della? Are you ready to go yet?"

Perry replaced Festus's bowl, brimming with fresh water on the mat covered with kitty paws. The scruffy cat looked up at him with disdain, one eye slightly scrunched up and his whiskers askew. The two of them were staring at each other when Della came down the stairs. Neither of them appeared to notice her. She paused in the kitchen door to watch them.

"Perry, stop trying to outstare him. You know he always wins, counselor. That is one culprit that you will never break," her throaty laughter filled the kitchen.

"He is up to something, Della," the lawyer said, pointing a finger at the cat. "He looks….suspicious." Festus took that moment to tilt his head, look up and give Perry a grouchy "re-ow," then saunter away.

Della couldn't contain herself and laughed loudly. "He has your number, Perry." She leaned up to peck him on the check with a quick kiss.

"The rascal knows that I have his girl. He's jealous," Perry growled. "Come here, woman," he said, turning to Della, who was pouring them two travel mugs of coffee. "I need a proper kiss."

He wrapped his big arms around her, inhaling her scent and her perfume, simultaneously. Perry leaned down and kissed Della with a passion that belied their ages. "One day, that scroungy cat is going to try to take me out, lady, so every day you keep him, my life is in danger," he chuckled.

Still smiling about his feline nemesis, Della said, "We're going to be late, dear, so if you think you can escape the clutches of the killer kitty, we need to go."

Exiting the house, Della slid gracefully behind the wheel of her convertible that had been left in the drive the evening before. Perry set the alarm and then joined her in the car.

Companionable silence filled the automobile as they travelled their usual route to the office where Ken was probably already waiting for them. As Della neared the first intersection, she tapped the brakes to slow the car before the stop sign. The pedal went all the way to the floor. Fear shot through her. The main road through here was heavily travelled and full of people headed to work at this hour of the morning.

"Perry!" Della shouted. Realizing what was about to happen because Della was pumping furiously trying to regain control of the car, Perry grabbed the door's "Jesus" handle. Della swung the Cadillac Allante' and pulled the handbrake—hard—as the vehicle left the highway and plunged down the bank into a large eucalyptus tree. There was a resounding crash of crumpling metal, followed only by the hissing of crumpled hot engine.

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Perry was stunned by the impact, but the airbag and the seat belt had prevented much damage to his personage. Regaining his senses his first thought was for Della. Her airbag had also deployed, but her head had smacked the window, and there was a small trace of blood on the glass. In the distance, there was the sound of sirens, but Perry couldn't hear them. He was too consumed with getting out of the car and reaching Della.

Smoke was coming from underneath the car and Della still hadn't come to. Pushing open the door, there was a slight drop to the ground, due the angle of the automobile's resting place and the steep embankment. Gritting his teeth, the older man tried to get down to the ground without doing more damage to his knee.

Damn it to hell! The sharp pain in his knee was excruciating. Taking a deep breath and trying to compartmentalize the pain, Perry moved around the tail end of the vehicle. As he rounded the car to approach Della's door, he finally noticed two paramedics carefully coming down the hill toward them.

Perry reached the door the same time as the first paramedic. "Della! Della!" He reached to open the door, but was stopped by the emergency worker.

"Wait, sir! You need to step back and allow us to make sure that your wife hasn't injured her spine nor has a serious head injury." Perry started to interrupt, but the paramedic gently took hold of his arm.

"Sir, please. You don't want her to be hurt by your actions. Let us do our job." The young woman's eyes were sympathetic but firm.

Perry deflated. She was right. "Please," his voice broke. "Take care of her."

"We will. Please allow us to help you up to the ambulance to be examined while we remove your wife from the car." Simmons, the emergency medical tech, could see the man was hesitant to leave the woman. She smiled at him and said, "It will make it easier for us to get her out quickly, and you want to be waiting at the ambulance for her when we get her out, right?"

Perry was a tower of strength, but the source of that strength was hurt, and he was reduced to a wounded old man.

His usually fiery, fierce blue eyes implored the young woman, "Please, don't….let her—take care of her."

"I give you my word. Now, sir?" Simmons indicated another EMT and a fireman who stood ready to help him up the incline.

With a stricken look, Perry Mason left the woman he loved more than his life in a stranger's hands.

Perry reached the ambulance, finally, and the pain in his leg was almost blinding in its intensity. Sitting down as instructed on the bumper of the emergency vehicle, he finally allowed the paramedic to examine him, but the lawyer would not take anything for the pain in his leg until he saw that Della was safe. Arguing with him was useless. He did get one of them to attempt to contact Ken and Paul.

"What is taking so long?" Perry demanded. "Why don't they have her out by now? Good God, they only have to get her out and onto a backboard!"

Ken Malansky was running through the crowd, which by now had gathered to watch the spectacle, pushing his way through to Perry.

Perry grabbed Ken by the arm, "Della's down there; find out what's taking them so long!"

"Perry!" His protégé' pointed to the top of the hill. "There they are."

As the rescue party cleared the crest of the small hill, there was an explosion, followed by a fireball and thick black smoke.

***I took liberties with the car I chose. I had to have a car big enough for Perry but a convertible. There was no handbreak or a passenger side airbag. My bad.


	4. Chapter 4

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 4

The blast knocked the emergency personnel forward, but they did not drop the stretcher carrying Della.

Perry tried to rise too quickly and his head swam and his knee collapsed under him. Ken hurried to catch him, along with the help of a fireman and led him back to the ambulance. Della was loaded into a second ambulance that had arrived because two victims had been reported initially, with undetermined injuries and severity.

Perry bellowed, "Wait, I'm going with her. Wait!"

Ken grabbed Perry by the arm, "No, Perry, come on these people want to take you to the hospital. You'll be right behind her, straight to the same hospital." Ken looked to the attendant for confirmation.

The EMT replied, "Yes, St. Joseph. Sir, please let's get you inside and get you checked out."

Before he could begin a ferocious argument, the young lawyer, cut him off, "Perry, you have to be able to take care of her. Now, let's go." To soften his words, Ken placed his hand on Perry's shoulder.

Perry, for once, was without words. He nodded and Ken climbed into the ambulance to go with him to the hospital.

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Paul rushed into the nurses' station in St. Joe's Trauma Unit, sliding to a stop. "Where is Della Street? Perry Mason?"

"Sir," the matronly nurse looked at Paul as if he had just spit on her. "Would you please take a seat and we will get to you as soon as possible."

"Look, lady, my…parents are here and I need to know where they are, how they are. They were in an accident a couple of hours ago. And I am not leaving here until I get some answers!"

The large nurse looked as if she was going to reach across the large desk and take Paul by his collar and drag him over to stomp a mud hole in him and then walk it dry. "Sir, this is the last time-"

"Paul!" Ken called from across the room, looking as if he had just come down the hallway and had spied the private detective by accident.

The nurse drew a sigh of relief and rolled her eyes as she walked away.

"Ken, what is going on? Are they okay? Where are they?"

"Come on," he said, taking Paul by his jacket to pull him along. "Maybe you can calm him down."

Paul made a sound that was a cross between a snort and a laugh. "Yea, well, you know as well as I do that there is only one person who can do that, and it _sure_ ain't me."

Ken led him to a cubicle with a curtain pulled across the opening. Inside, they found a very angry Perry Mason, who resembled a raging bull ready to gore anything within reach, and everyone was fair game.

"Find that damn doctor and get me to Della, now!" Perry bellowed at them as they entered. "Paul!" Nice of you to show up—finally!"

"Perry, geez, I got here as soon as I found out. Where is Della?"

Ken answered before Perry could get wound up again. "She's having an MRI, checking for anything worse than a concussion. She banged her head on the side window pretty hard, and she still hadn't regained consciousness the last we saw of her."

A young doctor entered the examining room. "Mr. Mason, you check out perfectly well, except for the knee, of course. I am going to give you two shots, one in each side—a corticosteroid and a strong anti-inflammatory. That along with the pain medication should get you through the next several days until the swelling goes down."

Brusquely, Perry commanded, "Then do it! I want out of here."

The doctor raised an eyebrow at his tone but wisely didn't comment. The two shots looked extremely painful to Paul and Ken, yet Perry never flinched.

"Now, sir, if you will-"

"Are we done here," Perry asked.

"Well, yes, for now, but you will have to schedule—"

Perry stepped onto the stool beside the examining table and Ken reached an arm to help him. Turning to the physician, Perry said, "Thanks. You know where to send the bill."

Walking him slowly back out to the nurses' station, the three men stood waiting to ask where they could find Della. The same irritable woman came to the counter. "May I help you?"

Perry leaned toward her and threw both his massive size and his blue glare of death over the files and charts between them. "Where may I find Della Street? And I want to know _now_."

She told him.

***Thanks to all the people who took the time to review. If I like a story, I always try to do that because to people like me, and the others here, that is what pushes us to keep writing. Special thanks to T'Lu, startwriting, and others that my tired mind won't let me remember. You are all appreciated. Peace.


	5. Chapter 5

The Best Part of Me: Chapter 5

The earplugs didn't alleviate the loud sounds of the MRI machine and it only made the thundering headache Della had much worse. Through the speakers in the tube, she heard the tech, "Ma'am, lie completely still. We're going to take you out now."

Della felt the large 'tray' that she was lying on slide out and into a very brightly lit room. One of the technologists came over to help her sit up.

"How are you feeling," she asked.

"Well," Della said, "I have a terrible headache, other than that, I think I am fine."

"The doctor will read the report and be with you shortly. I am going to help you into this wheelchair, just in case, you get dizzy," the tech said, after Della waved her hands and shook her head to refuse.

Della had just about had enough. "Would you please ask him to hurry? I have friends who will be worried and my….well, there was someone in the car with me that I'd like to check on."

"Sure thing," the young woman said.

As they rounded the corner to the MRI waiting area the first thing Della saw was her three "boys." Perry, Paul, and Ken. All three looking lost and anxious.

"Are all these handsome men waiting for you, ma'am?"

Della had teared up and she could barely say, "Yes, they are."

Perry rose to go to her, but Paul jumped up and moved Della's chair to him.

They leaned forward to take hold of one another. The others in the room left to afford them privacy.

"God, Della, I didn't know what to think." His embrace enveloped her for more than a long moment before releasing her, and even then they didn't turn loose of each other.

"I think I only have a concussion, maybe, but I was so worried about _you_," Della said, looking into his eyes. "Your knee?"

"Fine," he said, smiling, "Now that you're here, everything is just fine."

The doctor in charge of Magnetic Resonance Imaging entered as Perry's words were still hanging in the air. "Well, maybe not so fine, Mrs. Street. I'm Doctor Abe Johnson." Leaning toward Perry, he said, "Mr. Street, nice to meet you."

Perry didn't waste time with pleasantries. "What is 'not so fine,' Dr. Johnson?" His voice boomed out, echoing into the hallway. Ken and Paul stood at the entrance to the small waiting room, empty except for the five of them.

"Mrs. Street, your head injury shows that you have a small blood clot between your brain and your skull. This is an unusual situation. Usually a blood clot will be in the brain, but this is between the sheath surrounding the brain matter and the skull itself. Actually, as dangerous as it sounds now, having it on the brain would be much worse. It is not large, and we would like to start you on blood thinners and keep you here overnight for observation. After another MRI or CAT scan tomorrow, if the clot shows shrinkage, you may go home with the medications to rest. I can't emphasize that enough. No heavy anything, working, lifting, stress, or….sex." The doctor actually looked embarrassed when he added the last. "And no driving until we see how you progress. It could affect your vision and if driving, or doing something that might injure you, well, it wouldn't be good."

Perry and Della sat silently, stunned.

"Do either of you have any questions?" Dr. Johnson asked.

"How dangerous is it? What are the odds it could get worse before it gets better?" Della asked.

"Odds are with you if you follow orders and the thinner works as it should."

He turned to Perry, "Mr. Street, do you have any questions?"

Perry put the doctor under intense scrutiny. "You are sure that it will most likely dissipate on its own; that the blood thinners will work. Because doctor," Perry leaned forward, and speaking passionately, "if you are not, you'd better recommend someone else. If anything happens to the woman I love, there will be hell to pay."

Dr. Johnson was stunned. "Sir, I assure you-."

"Don't assure me! You give her the best care possible. And you make the room assignment for two. I am staying with her until she is discharged."

"I don't think insurance will cover that, Mr. Street."

Perry smiled but it was a cold imitation of a smile. He said, "Just take care of it, doctor, and to hell with insurance. I will pay it, in advance."

Dr. Johnson rose. "I think I understand. And I respect your desires to be with your wife. I'll arrange it. While you're waiting, Mrs. Street, I will have a nurse give you a shot for the head pain."

Johnson left the room, and Perry took Della's hand in his. "It is going to be alright, baby. Do you mind if I step into the hall for to speak to Ken and Paul for a moment?"

Della nodded, and then regretted it immediately, "Of course not, Perry."

Trying to hide the struggle to get to his feet from Della, Perry walked to the hallway with Paul and Ken.

"No more! Whoever this is stops now! I don't care what you have to do or how you have to do it, but you find this person who hurt Della. Am I clear, gentlemen?"

Paul answered for both of them, "Crystal, Perry, crystal."


	6. Chapter 6

The Best Part of Me: Chapter 6

Della's dreams were jumbled, colorful, frightening and intense. When she fought her way to consciousness through the pain medication, she thought that her heart was going to beat out of her chest. She reached across the bed, trying desperately to find Perry but instead found herself alone. Her sense of time skewed by drugs.

She managed to get out of bed and into the bathroom. Her heart still pounding, Della turned on the cold water and splashed her face repeatedly. At last the panicked feeling engendered by her dreams began to wane somewhat.

What was that all about? Where had all that come from? Pain meds, anxiety, and an empty stomach did not mix. The headache had made her nauseous; she had turned down Perry's repeated attempts to find something palatable. Well, hindsight was 20/20, and, right now, Della just wanted to go back to sleep if possible.

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Perry, Paul, and Ken were gathered around the kitchen table discussing the information that Ken and Paul had been able to collect.

"This is it?" Perry threw the folders back onto the table, and the loose papers scattered down the length of it. "That's not good enough, dammit!" He rubbed his hands across his tired eyes, then up through his hair, mussing it.

Paul, Jr., tried to placate Perry, a task he knew was damn near impossible unless it was Della doing it. "Ken and I will continue to look, Perry. The LAPD are checking the car and will let us know what they find as soon as they're able. We're both prepared to stay here until you feel it's safe enough for us to leave."

"Yea, Perry, what he said," Ken chimed in, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "We know you're not satisfied, and neither are we. You know, we still don't know if it's both of you that are being targeted or one of you. I mean, you've both been involved whenever something's occurred. If you have any suggestions, we're more than willing to check them out. But right now, there isn't anything suspicious about anyone who's been paroled or made bail in the last month."

Without looking up, Perry said, "Go back further. This took time to plan, to find out where to find us, and to put into play. This isn't a prank; this crash was meant to be deadly. Whoever did this, he or she knew that either of us or both could be found here, and I doubt they were after Della, unless it was to get back at me for something. Della has never hurt anyone in her life; she's incapable of it."

Ken spoke up, "Alright, Perry, we're on it first thing tomorrow, but now," the young lawyer checked his watch, "I don't know about Paul, but I need some sleep, and I know you do, too." He tried to smile but failed miserably. Glancing at Paul, he left for one of the guest rooms.

"There's an LAPD car outside with two officers for the rest of the night. I think starting rested and fresh tomorrow will keep us from overlooking something crucial." Paul reached out and put his hand on Perry's arm. The older man neither moved nor answered.

Finally, Paul said, "I'm going to go upstairs to check on Della."

Paul silently entered the hallway outside Perry and Della's room, pausing to knock lightly on the door. No answer. Pushing the door open, Paul could see his beloved Aunt Della seemingly asleep by the light of a small antique lamp on her dresser.

He entered and moved to her bedside listening for her breathing. Pulling over a small chair, Paul placed his hand on her shoulder to reassure himself that she was really alive by touching her and feeling her warmth.

"Della," Paul swallowed before continuing. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I, um, I couldn't go to sleep without checking on you. Perry is really worried. You know he's no good without you. He's so ornery _with_ you around that without you he's damn near impossible." He laughed quietly. "Della, you are the only mother I've had for as long as I can remember—" He dropped his blonde head down and leaned forward closer to her back. Not being able to see her face made it easier for him to speak again.

"Perry isn't the only one who's worried about you. I am. Ken is. Della, please be alright. I know I'm a grown man and I'll probably never measure up to dad in Perry's eyes, but I've always known that I was special to you. You always made sure I knew that and I, well, I don't know if I really ever told you enough that I love you and if something happened to you, it would be like losing—" He stopped, tears starting to spill from his eyes. "It's just, well, I need you, Della. Please don't leave me, too." Paul placed his head in his hands, unable to continue.

He wasn't aware of her turning around, just of her hand rubbing the top of his head, her fingers through his curly hair just like when he was little. Embarrassed by his tears, Paul didn't look up right away.

Della whispered in that gentle mellifluous voice, "Paul, you're the only son that I will ever have. I have always known that you love me. Your father would be so proud of the man you've become. And Perry," she laughed low, "Perry loves you, but he doesn't know quite how to deal with you. You're a different generation, a different type of man than Perry and your father, and that's okay. I love the man you are—gentle, sweet, talented, and _so_ charming."

Paul raised his head and he could see Della's dark eyes wet with unshed tears. He took her outstretched hand. "I love you, Della. I'm going to find out who hurt you."

Della gave him that sweet undimmed smile which he'd always known. "I know you will, and, Paul, and I love you, too. Always have. Always will."

Paul got up from the chair and kissed the top of her head gently. "Can I get you anything, Beautiful?"

"No, go to bed. Get some rest. I'll be fine, just fine."

Squeezing her hand once more, Paul rose to leave and paused in the doorway, and looked back once more. "Good night."

"Night, Paul. Sleep tight."

He gave her that little grin of his that was so like his father's as he left and headed back down the stairs, still emotional and without seeing Perry standing behind him in the darkness.


	7. The Best Part of Me: Chapter 7

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 7

Perry entered the bedroom after he had waited in the shadows of the hallway for Paul, Jr, to go back down the small flight of stairs.

Pushing open the door, he disrobed, found his pajamas, brushed his teeth and headed for his side of the bed.

He could barely make out Della's features in the dim lighting. Perry reached out to gently brush her hair back from her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open.

"Hey there, pretty lady. How are you feeling?"

"To be honest, Perry, a little drunk or high or whatever it's called these days." She gave him a mischievous grin. "Not too shabby, but I don't recommend the headache to go with it."

"Is there anything you need or want, water, another blanket?" Perry asked.

"No, I'm fine." Della cleared her throat. "Were you by any chance standing in the hallway eavesdropping while Paul was in here?"

"Not on purpose. To tell you the truth, I didn't pay any attention to where he said he was going and when I walked up to the door, I could tell I was about interrupt something that I shouldn't." Perry trailed his fingers along her upper arm gently. "That boy loves you, Della."

"Perry, he's not a boy. He's a man, but you still treat him like a boy. You don't always afford him the respect that you do Ken." There was no judgment in her words, just fact.

The attorney was quiet for a few minutes. So was Della. If Perry was a tad irritated with her, he was going to have to deal with it. The effect of the drugs had made her freer to approach certain topics than she might normally be.

But when Perry answered her, it wasn't with anger, just a twinge of frustration. "Del, I don't _know_ how to treat him sometimes. When I look at him, I still see that little boy that wanted all your attention and let me know, most assuredly, that I was in the way." He laughed under his breath at the memory. "And, his 'hobbies' sometimes get in the way of what I consider—what he should consider—his livelihood."

Della reached gently to touch Perry's grizzled cheek. "If I remember correctly, that didn't bother you when Big Paul did it."

"That's different. Paul knew how important it was to maintain his agency's reputation, and he could separate play from work."

The woman by his side laughed low, "Oh, really, Counselor, well, would you care to explain the existence of Little Paul?"

Perry folded and held up his right hand in surrender, his girth vibrating with quiet laughter.

"You win. I have to give you that one. Maybe I am too hard on him. Maybe I'm too hard on him because he was—and still is—after my girl." The older man moved closer to the love of his life and she rested her head on his shoulder. "Maybe it is nothing but jealousy. A silly old man's jealousy at having anyone else have any of your attention but me."

"I rest my case," Della murmured softly, the drugs and stress of the past few days catching up with her. "Sometimes, I wish….I just like to feel he's ours, Perry. Do you? Do you think that may be why you're so hard on him?"

Her lover couldn't think of any response to that. Perry had his regrets. Regrets he never voiced because it hurt too much to acknowledge there was no do-over for their past, for children they may have had. A little Della. God! What was wrong with him! So maudlin tonight.

Having Della hurt and seeing her in the car with blood on the window and realizing he no longer had the strength to get her out was a blow to his manhood. Perry was realizing his limitations, physically, and he didn't like it. At all.

Maybe if they had-stop! Perry cut himself off before he could start down the 'might have been' road. Wasted time. He had to deal with what was now, just like everyone did. Just as James Joyce said, "The present is the now, the here, through which all future plunges to the past." And if you throw that away, the present, you have nothing.

Della's soft breath and the gentle beating of her heart against his side was most assuredly something. The most important something in his life.

As for Della, resting against her mountain of a love, she felt protected and loved and not worried at all, a combination of a lifetime of trust and good pain medication.

Perry felt her relax, and he pulled her against him, as if to shield her from the world. He let his sharp mind, which had not been damaged by age, but only honed to a finer edge, sort through their past, decade by decade, case by case. Who would do this? Risking injury or death to both of them?

The two of them had encountered their share of evil and apathy in their career together. One thing was definite: someone had a grudge, but sorting out 'who' was going to be difficult unless he or she left something to help them identify the perpetrator. Uncovering the truth and murderers did not make Perry popular. He had had to turn over a lot of rocks, allowing a lot of snakes to crawl out, before finding the truth in his work. The kinds of people who lived under rocks did not like the light that Perry, and Della by extension, had shone on them. But who hated them enough to want to possibly kill them?

Closing his eyes, Perry decided to allow his unconscious mind to work on it for a while. Right now, he had someone to whom he'd rather turn his undivided attention.

Breathing in the scent that was uniquely Della, her essence and Chanel, the master of the courtroom lay back and allowed his chin to gently rest against her curly hair while she slumbered safely, enveloped in his strong arms.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Loud knocking woke Perry from a deep sleep. It was dark outside, but he couldn't see the clock past the lamp on Della's bedside table. It was probably one of the deputies outside checking in on them or perhaps there was news.

The pounding persisted, getting stronger, reverberating now throughout the house. Dammit, why wasn't one of them answering the door; the noise would wake Della.

Easing his arm from under her head, Perry gently allowed her to slip onto the pillow. She didn't stir or awake.

The knocking was increasing in intensity. What was going on? Was something wrong downstairs? Were Paul and Kenneth alright?

Grabbing his robe, Perry carefully made his way downstairs and noticed that there were no lights outside, either from the security light or police flashlights or strobes, but the pounding on the wooden door seemed to have intensified.

He simply couldn't fathom why Ken or Paul hadn't answered the door; all seemed in order.

Perry flipped the switch for the porch light and looked through the peep hole. There was a figure of a man standing outside, just out of the light. Stepping back, the attorney reached into the drawer of a cherry secretary and withdrew a .38 Smith & Wesson. Holding it down to his side and slightly behind him, he yanked the door open in the midst of a barrage of knocks.

There was no one there.

What in the hell was going on? Perry stepped out onto the porch and noticed the police car with two officers at the curb. They looked as if they were talking and drinking coffee.

The older man started to step off the porch and go toward the car when the sound of a throat clearing behind him caused him to whip his head around.

My God! Perry grabbed the rail running alongside the porch to keep himself from falling.

The white hair was unmistakable, as was the trench coat.

"Paul! My God, man, is it you?"

The smoke from the cigarette he held in his hand was drifting lazily up and around his smiling face.

"Hello, Perry. How's tricks?"

For one of the few times in his life, Perry Mason was totally and absolutely speechless.

"Cat got your tongue? I can understand that. I'm not here to debate or argue or explain. I have a suggestion: think back to the golden days in the city, you, me, Della—by the way, she still looks fantastic, you are a lucky man, pal—but, remember, there are some people who can hold grudges a long time. Some for _crazy_ reasons that normal people like you and me don't always understand and some need no reason at all." Paul finished the cigarette with one final pull on it, tossed it to the ground and ground it out with the toe of his show.

"I know that's not much to go on, but we've had less and managed to solve cases, so hang in there. That's all I can tell you right now, maybe I can do more later. Gotta run." His best friend turned to walk away into the darkness. Suddenly he turned back.

"The kid turned out pretty good, huh? Della did a great job—you didn't do too badly." Paul gave him a toothy grin and turned to walk off into the darkness.

Perry reached to grab his arm, but no one was there. "Paul! Wait! How-? Paul!"

He felt a hand on his back.

"Perry! Perry!" Della was alarmed and shook him, her nails digging into his arm.

As if he had been held underwater, the lawyer awoke, gasping for air.

"Della. Della! I'm awake. It's alright, baby."

He pulled her down onto his great chest and into his arms.

"I'm okay. It was just a dream."

Della was trembling in his arms. "You were talking to Paul, and you sounded…like I've never heard you, Perry. Do you want me to go downstairs and wake him?"

He kissed the top of her head. "Baby, that wasn't the Paul who was with me."

PPPPPPPPPPPP&&&&&&&&&&&&&&DDDDDDDDDDDDDD

Perry was in his home office holding something in his hands, his back to the door, when Ken came in carrying a cup. When the older man heard him, he turned and set a picture face down on his desk.

"Thank you, Kennneth. Where's Paul?" His mentor was subdued this morning, strangely so.

"He's fixing breakfast for Della. Do you want me to get him?"

"No, no, thank you. I'll talk to him later."

"Perry, are you okay? You're kinda off kilter or something today. Is Della feeling worse?"

"No, she's fine. I'll talk to the both of you when he finishes." Dismissing him, Perry said, "Thanks again, for the coffee."


	9. Chapter 9

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 9

Paul and Ken settled into the leather chairs in front of Perry's antique desk, waiting for him to stop staring out the window and address them. Neither of them was eager to speak and create ripples in the current of whatever was washing over Perry this morning.

The attorney went to his chair and sat down heavily, folding his large hands in front of him. His blue eyes looked especially tired and hooded this morning, and he addressed them without preamble.

"I want you both to go back at least a year looking at parolees, releases from state institutions, arrest records and check them against records from my practice from the years 1957 through 1966. If you don't find anything, go back 18 months."

"Is there any particular reason, Perry, that you want us to check those particular years in your files," Ken asked. "Something we've missed."

Perry's eyes were shadowy and his expression enigmatic. "Call it a hunch." When neither of them moved immediately, he snapped, "The faster you get started, the sooner you may find something."

After they left, the big man rotated his chair back toward the window, his face pensive.

"Good morning," Della spoke from the doorway, a smile on her lovely face. "May I enter, Counselor?"

The granite visage transformed instantly; the indigo eyes crinkled and the mouth metamorphosed from a grim line into a warm smile. "You, my dear, may enter anywhere at any time if I ever have anything to say about it."

Perry started to rise, but Della stopped him and moved to take the chair recently vacated by Paul. She was dressed in a pale blue satin robe and had a touch of makeup on which encouraged him to think she felt better this morning. When he had departed their bed earlier, she had been sleeping soundly. Perry noted with slight annoyance that the cat had followed her into his office.

"Is there any reason that Paul and Ken left here with what amounted to their tails tucked between their legs?" Della asked quietly.

Perry's mood became more sober. "No." He averted his eyes from hers.

Festus jumped up into Della's lap and began to purr as she stroked him.

"Are you sure," she gently prodded. "You do look like a man who has...perhaps, seen a ghost."

Perry jerked his head sharply back to her kind face. "What?"

"I remember what you said last night—about Paul. Want to talk about it?"

He rose from his chair and went to sit beside her and took her hand tenderly in his and said, "Sweetheart, it was—I dreamed Paul was here." Perry smiled boyishly, "He was so real. His voice, same coat, and I could even smell the cigarette smoke. By the way, he said to tell you that you were still beautiful and you'd done a good job with 'the boy.' "

At this, Della blushed and laughed, "Well, Paul always had good taste."

The attorney leaned back and shook his head as if to clear cobwebs, but still he was smiling. "I know it sounds foolish, but as disturbingly real as it was, it was strangely reassuring."

Della placed her hand softly on his arm and gently laughed. "You know, Perry, as odd as it is, it makes me feel better as well, to think he's still there, looking out for us."

"Della," Perry said, changing the subject, "Do we have any files stored that haven't been placed on computer files yet or that aren't stored downtown, where I sent Paul and Kenneth to look earlier? Ones that may have been boxed up, and for all intents and purposes, forgotten, when we closed up shop the first time?"

Her beautiful face looked thoughtful. "Actually, Perry, there were several that I didn't leave downtown; I either wasn't sure that was the last of the litigation or there was something about them that, well, that still bothered me for some odd reason. As a matter of fact, they," she gently cleared her throat, "Are upstairs in the attic."

Perry gave her a smile of pure adoration. "That's my girl!"

*************P&D***********P&D***************P&D** *********************

Perry replaced the cordless phone on the charger.

"That was Kenneth. They'll be here with lists of state parolees and arrest records later tonight. So far they haven't found anything that matches up with any of our records downtown with the ones they've amassed."

Della 'hmmed' at him, from the sofa, absent-mindedly. The cat lay across the back of the couch, lazily flicking his tail.

"Della?" Perry made his way to the sofa. "Are you listening?"

She was looking through one of the boxes that Paul had brought down from the attic earlier.

She had started pulling the files, which were in alphabetical order, and was lost in the notes and memos of one. The contents were strewn across the table and her lap.

Perry watched her gently chew on her lower lip, concentrating, and transported back almost four decades. Her cheeks and neck were flushed and he stood admiring her. Today, she had dressed in a pink cotton shirt and white slacks. Her pink sandals were scooted under the oversized coffee table, and she was wiggling her toes, like she did when she was content and lost in her work.

"So, you agree that Friday, around 2:00, will be fine to go downtown to get the marriage license?"

"Um, huh. Whatever you want, Perry."

"Then on for a month long honeymoon, stopping by Hawaii, on to Tahiti, and then wrapping up in Ireland."

"Sounds wonderful, Chief."

Perry smiled and closed his eyes simultaneously. He moved to sit down beside her.

Festus was not pleased at having to share the sofa, and after he and Perry exchanged "stink eyes," the tom cat leapt down and disappeared, flicking his long tail angrily.

"Fine, I'll take care of the details. Found anything interesting yet?"

She cut her beautiful eyes at him and gave him a smile that melted his knees, "I had an idea, Perry. What if we begin by eliminating people who would have been under 30 years old at the time we handled their cases. That way, by now, they would still, theoretically, be young enough to pull off some of the things that have happened to us."

"That's a good idea, but just suppose they're older and have hired someone to do their dirty work."

Her pretty mouth twisted into a peeved pout, "I didn't say it was a perfect idea, just a start."

Perry placed a large hand on her shoulder and gently pulled her close.

"Have I told you, Miss Street, that you smell wonderful today?"

"Nooo." Della dropped her eyes, but fluttered her lashes.

"Have I told you that I think you look beautiful in that color?"

"Yes, Counselor, but I never tire of hearing your compliments."

"Compliments? Baby, these are my sweet nothings with which I am trying to charm you."

"Why would you have to charm me? Don't you already have me?" Della met his deep blue eyes with her own smoky ones. She unconsciously brushed her tongue along her bottom lip.

"My beautiful girl, I may 'have' you, but I intend to keep you with me for a long, long time. To do that, I want to make sure you know that I think, no, _I know_, you are the most beautiful woman in the world."

Della began to shake her head, but Perry stopped her.

"No. Don't. You are the most beautiful, loving, most intelligent woman that I have ever known. And I do not intend to allow you to get away from me."

The elderly attorney planted a soft, gentle kiss on Della's lips.

"Butterfly kisses, Counselor? _From you_?"

"A man is never too old to change or to appreciate the beauty in his life. Or to decide that he doesn't have to charge through life like a Saint Gertrudis bull tearing down everything in his path. Maybe, a man can finally realize that gentle people need gentle handling. Something that I haven't always done very well."

"A _man_, Perry?" Her soft eyes looked at him with such love that for a moment that he couldn't speak.

"Not a man, me. I have gotten more difficult as I've gotten older. I know it, and you know it. You deserve better." His dark blue eyes became teary. "You've always deserved better."

Della wrapped her strong slender arms around his neck and kissed him again. "You know, Chief, you may be right. But I love you." She pulled back and gave him a wicked smile.

"You!" He almost lifted her from her seated position to put her on her back, and leaning on his elbow beside her, they began to engage in some serious petting when an unfamiliar throat being cleared loudly brought their affectionate play to a screeching halt.


	10. Chapter 10

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 10

Perry could see quite plainly who stood in the doorway of the living room and didn't look the least embarrassed as he helped Della to sit up straight on the sofa, so she could see their unannounced visitor. Her face blushed pink when she saw who it was.

Perry rose to greet her, "Yvette, how lovely to see you. Please have a seat."

Mrs. Hamilton Burger's face was also pink as she explained her sudden appearance, "I'm so sorry for barging in like this, but I knocked at the kitchen door and no one answered. The young policeman told me you were in the kitchen so I assumed you didn't hear me, and I came through…." Yvette trailed off, blushing again at catching them in flagrante delicto.

Della pulled herself together, along with her blouse, buttoning it hurriedly.

"Let me get us some cool drinks and you can tell me all about what's been going on with you," Della rose and burned a trail to the kitchen and out of sight.

"Perry, I am sorry for—"

"Don't worry about it. It's not the first time we've been caught not acting our age." Perry's eyes twinkled at her. "How are you doing?"

"Healthy, enjoying the grandchildren. I actually came by to check on you and Della. I saw the accident reported in the papers, and I'm glad neither of you were injured too badly."

Perry's eyes grew serious. "Actually, Della's injury was more serious than mine, but she seems to be recuperating nicely."

Della reentered the room carrying a tray laden with lemonade and cookies. Placing it on the table, she said, "It is so nice to see you. How are Benjamin and Elena?"

Yvette smiled openly now, Della having hit upon a topic that she loved to discuss, her grandchildren. "Benjamin is at USC studying geology, and Elena is finishing up at Berkley, international law. Their parents are very proud of them." The older lady smiled, revealing sparkling eyes and dimples that were still striking, reminding Perry of the young beauty that she had been when married to Hamilton.

"I imagine their grandmother is also very proud," Della smiled, placing her hand on Yvette's.

"I am Della; I really am. I know that Hamilton would have been as well."

Perry spoke up, "I know that he certainly would have!"

"Please, stay for dinner. We'd love to have you," Della exclaimed.

"No, no, I have plans for this evening, and I don't want to impose. This was just a quick stop to check on the two of you."

"You wouldn't be imposing," Della insisted, but Yvette just shook her head. "Well, I'll walk you out."

"Perry, it's always good to see you."

Perry stepped forward and kissed her on the cheek. "You know you're welcome anytime, Yvette." She smiled, and then followed Della out.

As the door closed behind them and they continued down the walk, Mrs. Hamilton stopped to admire Della's roses. "I don't know how you do it, Della." There was more than a touch of envy in her voice.

Della shrugged, "Oh, it's as much Perry as me. He takes care of the insects, and I take care of the fertilizing and black spot-oh, and talking to them." She laughed aloud.

"No, honey, I don't mean the roses," she said. "I mean you and Perry."

"_What_?" Della was surprised. Yvette was a very private person and had never shared an intimate confidence.

"You and Perry." She sounded wistful. "I'm jealous, Della, plain and simple. I miss Hamilton so much, even after all this time. You and Perry-you are still so much in love," Yvette laughed. "Among other things. I always thought you two were perfect for each other and could never figure out why you didn't marry. Maybe you did the right thing." She off looked across the wide green landscaped lawn. "You're still together, still happy."

She pulled Della close suddenly, "You kept the magic. Maybe I can find it again. I have a date tonight. It's about time; don't you think?" Yvette looked a trifle embarrassed.

Della smiled. "Call me. I want to know every detail."

"I will, Della. I really will." Still smiling, she waved at Della and drove away.

**********************************P&D************* ***********************

When Della reentered the house, she found Perry studying a menu.

"What shall it be tonight, my beautiful girl? Chinese, Italian, or Greek?"

Without answering, Della walked up to him and throwing her arms around his neck, she pulled him down and kissed him, long and passionately.

Perry's bushy eyebrows nearly met in a deep V in the middle of his forehead. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Perry asked when he finally took a breath.

Della didn't answer, but held Perry close and tight. Pulling back a bit, he tilted her face up to find tears in her eyes.

"What is this? I don't think trying to decide what to order for dinner should be a cause for tears." Perry smiled at her, while holding her chin up with one large finger. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Yvette. We are so lucky to still have each other for this long. To still be together and so happy." Della raised her hazel eyes, framed by dark thick lashes, to his concerned blue ones. "I love you, Perry. I always have, from the first day I met you until I breathe my last. I want your eyes to be the last I see, your lips to be the last I kiss, and I can only pray that I go first so I will never have to know what Yvette Hamilton feels. I would be lost without you. I'm not sure I could go on; you've been my entire reason for being for so long." She clutched him to her, sobs wracking her body.

Perry tightened his hold, and for the first time, he felt mortality touching them both. "You will never be without me, Della. If I have anything to say about it, you will never be without me."

Gently guiding her upstairs, he helped her lie down on their king sized bed. He removed both her shoes then his own. The burglary, the accident, Della's injury, all of it had culminated in an emotional time, not just for Della. What hurt her also hurt Perry. He held her until both of them stopped shaking.


	11. Chapter 11

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 11

The four of them finished off their meal in relative silence that evening. Paul and Ken were tired from pulling reports, researching public records and comparing notes to Perry's old client list.

"I feel like my eyes have been burned through to the back of my head," Ken said, rubbing his hand across face. "And that doesn't include the headache that I have _right here_," he said, indicating his forehead.

"Yea, and not a single match. Nada," Paul retorted. "But on the bright side we eliminated quite a few names. Most of them deceased or retired to a life relatively free of crime."

Della said, "By narrowing it down, that's progress, isn't it? Besides it's been fairly quiet over the last week; I'd like to think whomever it was has moved on or gotten whatever grudge they had out of their system."

Perry looked up at her. His expression was indecipherable.

"Uh, Perry, the police aren't going to keep a presence here indefinitely," Paul ventured forth.

"Don't you think I don't know that!" The attorney barked at him and slammed his fist on the table. "I am also well aware that you two have managed to turn up absolutely nothing so far." The last statement was practically a growl.

Shoving his chair back from the table, he mumbled, "Excuse me," and walked out the door into the backyard.

Paul turned to Della, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to set him off."

Della had turned her head to watch Perry make his way to one of the old fashioned metal gliding chairs and ease himself down. She released a long held sigh.

"He must have been an ass to you all day, too, Della. Honestly, I don't know how you put up with his moods and temper," Paul added, as he raised his fork to eat a bite of pie.

The sound of the slap reverberated throughout the room followed by the sound of the silverware hitting the floor.

Shocked, Ken looked at Della. "What the heck?"

Paul's cheek held an imprint of her hand. Never had she ever struck him in his life. He didn't know whether he was more angry, shocked, or hurt.

Della rose to her feet. "Don't you ever, ever say anything like that again! That man, that_ ass_, out there has been the only father you have had since you were ten years old. That _ass_ out there is one of the finest minds in criminal law ever." By now tears had started to trickle down her face. "That ass out there is the most loving man I have ever known. He would give his life for me, as I would for him."

She leaned down closer to Paul, "I love you, but if you ever disrespect Perry in my presence like that again-. " Placing her hand over her mouth, Della stopped before saying something that she would forever regret.

Reaching for Perry's glass and grabbing her own, she followed him outside.

**********************P&D************************* ***************************

Della's big bear was leaned back watching the evening sky. Lightening bugs flitted and glittered like tiny fairy torches all over the grass and through the foliage. He watched her leave the house; it was too dark to see her expression clearly, but he knew that angry walk. She stopped on the patio and turned on the radio to an oldies' station. The dulcet sounds of Sam Cooke's _These Foolish Things_ swept across the lawn.

"May I join you, Counselor? I come bearing libation."

He patted the seat beside him on the double glider.

She handed him an icy glass. Taking a sip from hers, she exhaled softly.

"It's nice out here tonight."

"Mmm. It is."

"We chose well, didn't we? The house?"

"We did. We chose very well," he said softly, placing his arm around her shoulders. "I chose well."

Della leaned her head against his massive shoulder. There was companionable silence as they listened to the baritone of Ben E. King and _Stand By Me_.

"I know what you're going to say," he muttered.

"What am I going to say," she whispered.

"I was too hard on the boys—excuse me, Paul and Kenneth."

"Nope."

"Nope?"

"Nope."

"Mmm," Perry muttered, surprised. "Why do I get a pass?"

"I didn't say that 'you got a pass,' I just said I wasn't going to say what you thought I was going to say." There was a gotcha smile in her voice.

For the first time all day, he felt his shoulders relax. Otis Redding sang _That's How Strong My Love Is._

"Perry," Della said softly, placing her hand on his thigh and leaning back to look at the stars. "I know that you are cantankerous when you are worried, and where I am concerned, well, you tend to let your emotions get the best of you these days."

"I didn't used to." Perry sucked in a deep breath and admitted what she already knew.

"It never really sunk in that we would reach this age. Our lives back then seemed so timeless and golden; we were invincible. I didn't imagine Paul would be gone so young. When Yvette showed up today, I relieved Hamilton's death, and then when you came inside, teary eyed and upset-."

Perry pulled his arm from around her and leaned forward, getting to the crux of the problem.

"I can't even protect you—can't walk worth a damn. I'm so big I can hardly move. I certainly didn't anticipate I'd be so physically worthless!"

Perry waited for comforting words from Della, but there was only silence. He glanced at her and was surprised to see that she was smiling at him.

"Woman, I bear my soul to you and you smile?" Perry tried to use the arm of the glider to rise indignantly, but it moved, and he fell back into the seat in a very undignified manner.

Della laughed loudly and threw her arms around him, holding him there.

"I can't believe that the same man who has slept in my bed since the Rat Pack ruled Hollywood would call himself 'physically worthless.' I damn sure wouldn't," she added the last part in a low sensual tone. "Now, Counselor, if you would allow me to change venue, say to our room, I could properly present a defense to this terribly untrue charge."

Perry leaned forward and kissed her tenderly then passionately. "How do you always know the right things to say?"

"I don't. I only know what to say to you."

"I love you, Miss Street."

Perry replaced his arm, and Della leaned back against him. They glided to Ella Fitzgerald singing _Make Love to Me._


	12. Chapter 12

**A great thanks to all of you who have stuck with me. Thanks for the wonderful feedback. I own nothing that has anything to do with Perry Mason except my own wild fantasies.

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 12

Della was working at her desk in the study, separating cases, correspondence, and letters. She had been up since one am, tossing and turning. Something she couldn't quite pin down kept niggling at her. That and slapping Paul earlier in the day.

When she and Perry had returned from outside, both men had already gone to their rooms for the night. Della both regretted what she'd done and yet did not. Paul deserved it, but she loved him and wanted peace between them.

Finally! She found the paper for which she was searching. A release form from the Ashbury Psychiatric Hospital dated nine months earlier had jarred something in her mind. Della couldn't quite put her finger on it, so here she was digging back through the case files trying to find whatever it was that might spark her memory and help her connect up the dots.

The name on the form was Kirk Allison. Kirk Allison. Why did that play on the fringes of her mind, dancing just out of reach. Allison.

"Della!"

She jumped, startling Festus who lay sprawled out on top of the laptop, taking advantage of the warmth. "My God, Perry! You don't have to sneak up on me_ and_ yell." She took her hand off her chest, her heart still beating wildly.

"Sorry," he said. "I woke. You were gone. I was worried." He leaned against the doorframe and appreciated her beauty even at this hour of the morning.

Della leaned her elbows on the desk and rested her head on her hands. "Did you miss me?"

"Yes, that should be rather obvious; I'm here to take you back upstairs." He reminded her of a little boy who was missing his favorite teddy bear. All that was missing was the stuck out lip.

She laughed. "Do I get a say in this?"

"No." Perry held out his hand and smiled. His dimples were her downfall.

Festus gracefully leapt to the hardwood floor, fully intending to accompany his mistress.

"No, sir. Not tonight, Deputy."

Della chuckled and took his proffered hand and walked around the desk.

Perry kissed the top of her head, then her forehead, finally wrapping his arm around her, and leading her back to bed, making sure that the tom cat didn't follow them upstairs. No sharing tonight, pardner.

****************************P&D******************* *****

The sun hadn't broken the horizon yet; the bluish gray early morning light was coming through the skylight above Perry and Della's bed. They lay front to back with Perry's immense arms wrapped around Della. Their bodies looked as if they had morphed into one being during the night. Della held Perry's hand and pulled it up fast to her breast, almost under her chin, holding him closely even in her sleep.

Perry was awake suddenly, vigilant. Someone was in the room. Holding still so as not to alert anyone that he was awake, his eyes scanned the darkness, searching for a threat.

The door inched open, and Paul, Jr., stuck his head through the crack. Catching Perry's eyes, he motioned with his head for Perry to leave the room and join him in the hall. Without showing his trepidation, the older man released Della softly. He knew Paul would never violate their private sanctuary, occupied by both of them at once, if it wasn't important.

Perry didn't bother with his robe, but quietly opened to the door and stepped into the hallway. There he found Ken and Paul waiting.

Without saying a word, Paul handed him the _LA Times. _On the front page there was a picture of Yvette Delacroix Burger, above it the day's headline screamed, 'Former LA County Prosecutor's Wife Found Brutally Slain.'

****************************P & D**************************************

Perry finished reading the article for the third time and finally folded the paper so that he no longer had to look at Yvette's smiling face. Now, no longer smiling. Now, no longer alive.

Paul and Kenneth were sitting silently across from him drinking coffee that the young PI had brewed after the three of them came downstairs together.

"From the information in the paper, Mrs. Burger apparently wasn't murdered by an intruder but by someone she allowed willingly into her home." Kenneth remarked, not taking his eyes from the coffee cup, as though it held tea leaves, which would help him predict the future and avoid further harm.

Perry grunted, "It certainly appears that way." He brushed his hand across his thick beard, blue eyes steady but unsettled. "Yvette was here yesterday."

"What?!" Paul almost yelled. "Why?"

"She told Della and me that she stopped by to check on us. She didn't stay long; we invited her for dinner but she said no. Della walked her out."

Kenneth spoke up, "Maybe she mentioned something to Della? Her plans for last night?"

"Perhaps," Perry said, remembering how distressed that she had been after talking to Yvette outside.

"I'll wake her," Paul said, starting to rise from the table.

"No! I'll tell her. I don't want her finding out down here with all of us watching and grilling her for information. I would like you to find out who is working the murder case and call them. Tell them we may have information about Mrs. Burger's whereabouts yesterday.

Then I want one of you to explain the situation to the officers outside and have them contact the detective working the accident. This could be likely connected. After that, just wait here until I come back down, please."

Paul said nothing, thinking that Perry's announcement was the under-statement of the year.

Neither of the younger men spoke, just nodded their heads that they understood.

Perry headed back to the bedroom, his heart in his throat.

Closing the bedroom door behind him, he slid back into bed with his love, his woman. She stirred and moved into his embrace.

She sniffed him. He smiled. She always told him that she could pick him out in a cave ten miles underground by his unique scent. Perry had laughed and remarked that he needed to bathe more often then. Della had told him she was just making sure he was hers. He smiled at the memory.

Kissing her face, he softly rubbed down her arm, which was uncovered and watched as small bumps rose on her flesh. She moaned and moved into him closer.

"You're awake early, Counselor," Della said in that smoky early morning voice, without opening her eyes. "Could I interest you in some predawn romance?"

"Always, baby, but not today."

Something in his voice made her senses go on high alert, and she rose to lean back against the cherry headboard, taking in his face. Perry was trying to appear composed, but Della had watched that face for forty years, knew every nuance of those eyes and expressions.

Slightly breathless, she whispered, "What's happened? My God! Is it Paul? Or Kenneth?"

Perry placed his hand on the side of her face, "No, no, they're fine. They're downstairs."

"Thank God! Then what is it, Perry? What's happened?" Her hazel eyes were dark with anxiety and unease.

He was sitting up by now and Perry took hold of her shoulders and told her the truth, "Yvette Burger was murdered last night."

Perry watched her absorb the news, too stunned to reply.

Della's eyebrows pulled together in a 'V' and she clutched at his arm, "Are you sure? Perry, no!"

Pulling her to him, the lawyer said, "I'm sure, baby. It's all over the _Times_ this morning. Paul and Kenneth came over first thing to let us know. I'm sorry."

She buried her head in his shoulder and clung to him. "How can this be? Is this our fault because she was simply here?"

Perry pushed her back far enough to look into her face, "NO! This is not our fault. Whoever did this obviously has some sociopathic agenda if it is connected to us. Hell, it may be connected somehow vaguely to all of us, you, me, Paul, Hamilton, Tragg; I just don't know what to believe anymore. But I do know it isn't OUR fault that Yvette is dead and I won't hear anything else about that." He pulled her back into his massive chest and held her close. "No, this is not our fault." But deep down, until they knew why this was happening, Perry honestly couldn't be sure.

"I need to know, Della, did she tell you anything about her plans for last night?"

Emotionally rattled, she had to think, "Yes, yes, she did. She had a—a date. She was excited about it, about moving on. She was happy for us and I think she wanted someone in her life again." Della grew quiet.

"Was that it, Perry? Just a set up by whomever this is threatening us? It has to be—what else makes sense?" Her soft doe-like eyes implored him to tell her that she was wrong.

"I don't know, baby. But the police will be here soon to ask some questions, so let's get dressed, fed, and collected by the time they get here." He held her arms tightly.

"Whatever this is, Della, we're going to be safe. I promise you." She didn't look up at him. Still shocked at his news.

"Do you believe me?" He leaned his head down close to her cheek so that his beard brushed her soft skin. "Do you think I would ever let anyone harm you if I could help it," Perry whispered softly.

Pulling him close, his love and partner of four decades, replied forcefully, "No, I don't. No more than I would allow anyone to hurt you!"


	13. Chapter 13

_**I finished this late, so I apologize for any mistakes or delirious absurdities. I am not one to (usually) act like a feedback junkie, but I may have "gone off the reservation" with this one. ( I can say that since I am partially Native American. LOL ) Now, if you like or don't, I need to know to see if I am going in the happy-direction-keep-going that you want. _

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 13

Yvette Burger's funeral was a sad and solemn affair, as was to be expected. There is always an added air of despair when someone is killed so abruptly—and so brutally. If death is brought on by an illness or accident, survivors will bandy about the word 'fate,' or that it was inevitable. With murder, there is a loss of security and faith in humanity, in the order and rightness of the universe. No explanation suffices when atrocities appear as random as to defy explanation.

The Burger family was stricken with both grief and incredulity that their mother and grandmother had been the victim of such a vicious crime. The fact that the details of such a pillar of society and motherly figure's demise was now splashed all over the pages of every California newspaper and tabloid was more than shocking, not just to her family, but to the justice establishment as well.

Hamilton Burger had been a timeless, legendary figure in Los Angeles County, with a record number of successfully prosecuted cases and a sterling personal reputation to match. His legal matches with Perry Mason were legendary, with Burger losing almost every time he came up against Mason.

Regardless of their professional relationship in the courtroom, Mason was a stalwart supporter of Burger's, especially after his final run for DA of Los Angeles County failed, mostly due to dirty campaigning by his opponent. Shortly thereafter, Burger was diagnosed with Stage IV lung cancer.

In his final days, Perry and Della had provided all the financial assistance that the Burger's would allow, even college tuition for their two children, and then, eventually, Perry delivered Hamilton Burger's eulogy.

Today, the Burger family was mourning their matriarch, and Perry and Della were grieving with them, accompanied by Paul and Kenneth. Their unique family sat behind the Burger's and their suffering was as palpable.

Della was heartsick and nauseous; knowing that whoever had slain Yvette was mostly likely the same person threatening them. She felt Perry's bearlike paw tighten on her own hand, giving her strength. Paul sat on her other side with his arm around her shoulders. Kenneth Malansky was surreptitiously eyeing the mourners, looking for anyone suspicious. He was not blinded by personal grief so his observations were not colored by loss, but by a fierce protectiveness for the second parents and brother with whom he had been blessed.

The men surrounding Della were sorry that Yvette Burger was dead, but they were ever so grateful that it was not the woman whom they all loved lying there in her coffin covered with lilies.

****************************P & D**************************************

Perry and Della sat in the limo facing Paul and Kenneth as it pulled away from the cemetery. No one spoke; no one had to. They all knew now to what lengths their unknown assailant would go. The driver had been instructed to take them to the Water Grill, on Grand Avenue.

Ironically, for so many years, Perry and Della had been so careful to hide their relationship, but they had decided several years ago to stop being held hostage to moirés that were part of their past. Still they were usually modest in their physical interactions when in public.

Della sat, dressed impeccably in a black knee length dress, V-necked, with ¾ length sleeves, and spectator pumps. She fingered the black pearls around her neck mindlessly while looking out at the window at the misting rain glistening on the streets. Her cheeks were pale, but her lipstick and makeup were flawless. Perry stared at her, a marvel at her age, hell, at any age.

Reaching over, the lawyer tenderly took her pale hand away from twisting the dark pearls and kissed her fingers. Tears glistened on her eyelashes and threatened to spill over onto her cheeks. Perry gave a slight tug, urging her to come to him. As if the young men weren't there, she fell into his arms and emitted a sob. He caressed the side of her hair with his lips and whispered in her ear. They were in their world alone now. She nodded and wrapped her free arm around his stomach holding on tightly.

Paul's gut was wrapped into knots. God, he couldn't stand this! He wanted to find who was doing this and rip his or her damn head off.

In a few minutes, Della stopped crying and left her head against Perry's shoulder, with her eyes closed; she seemed spent. Soon the car stopped in front of the restaurant, and the driver got out opening the rear door.

Perry stepped out and reached a hand to Della. The doorman held an umbrella over their heads, leading them through the door and inside.

The somber group was led to a table near side of the restaurant where there was some privacy.

After being seated and perusing the menus, Della placed hers down with a heavy sigh.

"Young lady, you will order, or I will order for you, but either way, you're going to eat. You've hardly eaten for two days," Perry said in a low but firm voice.

"Fine," she rose, "Order for me, I'll be right back. I just need to check my face and wash my hands." She brushed her hand possessively over his shoulder and gave him a conciliatory look.

Placing his hand over hers quickly, he released her to go on her way.

***************************P &D***************************************

"This may not be the best time to bring this up," Della started to say.

"But?" Perry asked.

"Does the name Kirk Allison mean anything to you?"

They were sitting in front of the fireplace, each with a cognac. The day had been emotionally draining, and they need some 'them' time.

"Vaguely….'Allison' does, but I would remember a client by that name." He shook his aristocratic head, "Hell, I am surprised I remember my name, right now." The heavy lidded eyes were weary; she could see that even if the fire was the only light in the room.

Della moved from her chair opposite his, and sat on the floor, in front of the fire, leaning her head against his legs, watching the flames flicker. Perry placed his hands on her shoulders and massaged the tight muscles there under the silk robe.

Finishing his drink, he placed the glass on the side table and leaned forward, allowing her to fall back into his front, his head over hers, while the flames licked over the logs, blue and yellow, up and down, popping and cracking. The comforting smell of burning wood and the light from the fire dancing around the room like a live thing.

"I am glad that we're alone tonight," she whispered. "Well except for the cruiser outside." She shivered, remembering the reason it was there. "I need some 'us' time."

Instead of answering with words, the lawyer leaned forward and began trailing soft kisses down from behind her ear, down her neck. Her soft moans showed him that his efforts were appreciated.

"In view of our inevitable, uh, future entanglements, Miss Street, would you join me upstairs?" Perry's voice, which was normally low and very masculine, became downright husky.

"I will adjourn to the bedroom, Counselor." Rising, she took his hand, and they were disrobing by the time they entered the bedroom. My Lord, _how long has it been_, she thought. She craved him, his closeness.

When Perry turned from placing his shirt on the chair, Della wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him down to her lips, exploring, probing, touching as if they had only a minutes to love a lifetime.

He returned her passion with equal ardor. By the time, they were on the bed, Perry was fully ready and Della clutched him to her feverishly, wrapping her slim long legs around his large frame and with surprising strength, she pulled him down between her legs.

Perry entered her in one smooth stroke, and Della grasped for him with all her might, using her legs to pull him closer, harder. She ran her hands through his thick hair, kissing his eyes, his cheeks, his lips, whispering and then calling his name like a mantra. This man was her religion, her entire being at the moment. The feel of him and her desire for him had not diminished in all the years they had been lovers.

Their familiar intimate interactions and noises prevailed and sealed them in a world all of their own. Worries fell away; pain and fear became distant and nebulous, life and death no longer intimidating or worrisome. Had they died this moment, their life together would have been enough and they would have gone blissfully in each other's arms. It had been so long since the two had been apart, emotionally or physically, that they didn't know how to be separate anymore. The bad San Francisco years were like a cancer on their relationship that had been exorcised and could not be allowed to return. Neither of them would speak of it anymore. To speak of it would recall the evil of the emptiness and the waste of time that they had spent apart, time thrown away.

Now all that mattered was the age old dance of love and soul combining two into one, entwining them just as they were. Perry felt Della begin to tense, grasping at him, whispering his name urgently. Then, her cry, loud, explosive, and primitive was followed by his release, and his voice crying out, "Oh, my God! Della. Oh, God."

They lay side by side, covered with sheen of sweat, sated. Della was barely aware, but she heard him whisper, "I love you. God, I love you so much," then tears, not hers, but his, streaming down his face.

The man, lawyer, lover, best friend, legend-everything that ever mattered in life to her was beside her. Pulling his great head into her soft bosom, she kissed away his tears and told him everything that he needed to hear and everything that she needed to say. Perry had always been her knight in shining armor and he still was.

It was like the first and the last time together. It was everything wonderful between them all rolled into one and it was overpowering in its intensity. It was everything good that could exist between a man and woman: pure, ageless, sacred, and eternal. Those who thought only a piece of paper, legality, made a true union of lovers were fools. A marriage was only constructed and consecrated in the heart and soul where only God could see it in all its wonderful, glorious truth.


	14. Chapter 14

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 14

Della was working across from Perry the next morning, when suddenly, he looked up at her, and said, "Kirk Allison is not Kirk Allison. But you're right, Della, he is someone from our joint past. Can you find the file for Clare Allison, 1959 or 60?"

"Yes. One minute." She quickly sorted through the years and pulled 'Allison, Clare' out of the stack marked '1959.'

Taking it over to his desk, she leaned down and said, "What is it, Perry? What have you found?"

"Do you remember the little boy? What was his name? He was Lorraine Jennings' son."

Reaching down she flipped the pages forward, "Yes, here. David Selkirk. Everyone thought he had accidentally killed his father because he had been allowed to play with a real gun and didn't know that the weapon was loaded. His step-father had really killed his father, but allowed the boy's mother to think that David had done it."

Reaching for the psychiatric release record, Perry handed it to Della. "I think we have our prime suspect."

*************************P&D********************** *********************

The four of them were in the study, along with two detectives, Tovey who was handling the investigation into the attempt on Perry and Della's lives and Carmichael who was heading the investigation into Mrs. Burger's murder.

Carmichael was not impressed with what had been presented. "So you think this kid, well, man now, is unhinged enough to want to come after the two of you, Mrs. Berger, and maybe anyone else involved in this murder trial. Why? Convince me; this was a hellava long time ago."

Perry's voice was hard as he addressed the two detectives. Tovey was quiet and more introspective and appeared to be willing to listen to their theory, whereas, Carmichael was more seasoned and less likely to take input from 'civilians.'

"Read the psychiatric report for yourselves, gentlemen. He was released five weeks before the attempted break-in and the tampering with our car. Mr. Selkirk also has severe anger issues that mostly likely stem from losing the only father that he ever loved, his stepfather, Ralph Jennings.

When he was convicted of killing David Selkirk's father, not only did he lose Mr. Jennings, but his mother blamed him. She sent the boy away to a boarding school where he was in one violent incident after another, with one finally culminating in the death of a boy in his fraternity over a girl. He was convicted of manslaughter, but the influence of his grandfather helped him to make parole early.

After that, Selkirk's step-father was murdered in prison. David seemed to have suffered a psychotic break according to public record and was involuntarily committed to the mental hospital, in Del Mar. While there, he insisted upon being called Kirk Allison, and he also worked in the facility's carpool as a mechanic."

"How is the name change relevant?" Tovey asked.

Paul said, "Clare Allison was defended by Mr. Mason, who was helped by my father, a private investigator, and prosecuted by Hamilton Burger. Now, since his release five weeks ago, no one seems to know where he is keeping himself, not even his mother, who by the way has remarried. There have been attempts, one very successful, may I remind you, on three of the people either directly or indirectly connected with the case. Hamilton Burger is dead, so maybe Yvette Burger was a close substitute."

"Fine," Carmichael asked, "Then why no attempt on your life?"

Paul looked uncomfortable and finally said, "I don't know, detective. Lack of opportunity. The fact that I am younger and could put up more of a fight; I don't know. I do, however, suggest strongly that you help us try to locate him before someone else gets hurt."

Tovey picked up the file which contained copies of the information put together for them to take. "We will take this under advisement, look into it further, and get back to you as soon as possible." Turning to Della, he said, "Ma'am, good afternoon. Gentlemen."

Carmichael followed his fellow officer outside without a word.

Ken Malansky let out a breath, "Well, that could have gone better."

"We don't really have anything but circumstantial evidence; why should they take us seriously," Perry said.

"The key to all this is finding this Kirk Allison or David Selkirk, or whoever he is. That we can get a start on now by talking to his mother in person and seeing if there are any financials we can trace to his use. His mother is bound to know if he has money from a trust," Ken said.

"The grandfather is dead," Della said, looking through a sheaf of papers in her hand. "His will would have been probated and David may have inherited through him."

Perry said, "Excellent point, Della! Paul—"

"We're on it!"

"Wait!" Della yelled, "Here's a copy of the latest photo of him." Putting her hand on Paul's cheek, she whispered, "Be careful, please."

Paul gave her that wide grin, "I will." He pulled her into a hug and whispered into her ear, "We're good. I was outta line."

When Della pulled away, Paul said, "Love ya, gotta run," and headed for the door.

Ken paused long enough to say, "I'm going to see the mother, and would you two, please, stay here?"

Perry put his arm around Della's waist and gave him an innocent smile, "Where else would we be?"

Ken wanted to roll his eyes, but, wisely, did not. Instead, he just smiled a bit uncomfortably and followed Paul out.

As the door shut, Della looked at Perry, and said, "I'm ready when you are, Chief."

*******************************P & D****************************************

The home of the Burgers was in a lovely neighborhood within a half hour of theirs. Della had familiarized herself with the rental car that had been delivered after Ken and Paul had lit out on their respective missions. Now, she carefully pulled it into the garage, where only one other car waited eerily for an owner who would never return. Getting out slowly, Perry used the opener given to him by Hamilton, Jr., (along with the house keys) to close the garage door.

Della reached back into the back seat to get a manila envelope and a camera.

Together, they stood quietly in the garage, the only light filtering through the trees and the dusty windows. The air was stuff and heavy. Dust motes floated through the light from the windows, disturbed by their arrival.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine. I am not enjoying this, but I understand that you want to see the scene of the crime yourself. You forget; I know how you work." Della smiled at him.

Perry smiled back, "At this point, you _should_ know ALL my secrets."

He became serious, and said, "You can wait here, baby."

"No. Like old times. We go together." Rounding the front of the car, she held out her hand, which he took firmly in his.

With the other, Perry unlocked the door, and pushing it open, they entered the house where Yvette Burger had taken her last terrified breaths.


	15. Chapter 15

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 15

Della took a deep breath. Funny, she didn't remember being this uneasy when they were slipping around on fire escapes and other wild escapades, now, she was standing firmly in the Burger's kitchen—former kitchen—and her heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest.

Perry flipped on the overhead lights and moved to the adjacent dining room, turned on the chandelier there.

China and crystal were still in their place settings; the food had been removed, but no one had apparently had the heart to load the dishwasher. Maybe they were coming back for more prints. The table had obviously been set for two. Perry took a napkin and held up the wine bottle by its neck: 1978 Merlot.

Neither of them had spoken. They didn't have to; the dread of actually seeing where Yvette had died was palpable.

The older couple moved through the living room. Della continued to take photos, as she had of in the dining room. Perry checked the front door lock. Undamaged. Della snapped the camera.

Perry, who had taken the manila envelope from Della when she started photographing the scene, now opened the flap and looked at the official police report. His blue eyes were unreadable as he flicked them from the papers in his hand to the woman he loved, who was watching him. He did not want her to accompany him. To deny her at this point would insult her for she was as much a professional as he. Still, that protective instinct wanted to ask her to wait here for him.

Reading his mind, Della said firmly, "No, Chief, I'm coming. We've been doing this a long time, and I—"

"Della," the big man took her arm. "You _knew_ her. Baby, it's not the same."

Her eyes, green flecked with brownish gold, held steady and unwavering.

Perry Mason took a deep breath. "Fine. I'll go first. Then….we'll see."

Turning to go down the hallway toward the bedrooms, Perry switched on the light.

Garishly, a partial red handprint was on the molding of the master bedroom door, at the end of the hall. Perry felt a stone in his stomach, dreading what lay ahead. He held up his hand for her to wait and simultaneously reached for the camera, which Della gave him without argument.

The lawyer had read the police report, but nothing could have prepared him for the bloody scene before him.

Although the bedclothes had been taken as evidence, as had the mattress, there were dark, almost black smears and droplets along the light carpet. On the wall behind the bed there was an area which looked like arterial spray, dark colored, too. He snapped the camera several times before moving to the bathroom.

There he found the usual female paraphernalia: foundation, hairspray, brushes, and lipsticks in various shades of red. Opening the medicine cabinet, he found a few prescription bottles. He turned them to face him and snapped the labels with the camera.

In the corner of the cabinet, an aged bottle of men's cologne. Hamilton's? Yvette hadn't been able to bring herself to through it away most likely. Sadness and loss nearly overwhelmed him and Perry leaned against the sink and closed his eyes. How did things get so awful, so fast?

Abruptly, Perry wanted out, now, before Della decided to come into the bedroom. When he came from the bathroom, he found it was too late. His beautiful girl stood staring at the wall, pale, no tears, just frozen.

Her lover took her firmly by the arm, "Let's go, Della. We've seen enough." He felt a slight shiver through their contact.

Without a word, she silently acquiesced and together they headed back down the hall.

The violent sound of glass breaking echoed throughout the house. Again! It sounded like someone was smashing through a back window, perhaps the laundry. Grabbing Della by the arm, he took her swiftly and silently into the nearest bedroom. Opening the door to the closet, they stepped inside and he pulled the louvered doors shut behind them. It was empty except for a few coats and old suits, again, probably her Hamilton's.

Perry pushed Della against the back wall of the closet and stepped in front of her, pulling the clothing in front of them to hide their presence. Della placed her hands on his hips, pulling him against her as if to protect him.

Perry could feel Della's quick breathing and her heart pounding against his back. Placing his hand into his jacket pocket, he wrapped his hand around the .38 that he had almost decided to leave at home.

Voices were echoing throughout the empty house, then low laughter.

Perry reached back with his other hand to touch Della's, calming her, he hoped. To get to her, whoever it was would have to go through him—and there was a lot of him to go through, he thought wryly.

The voices were getting closer now, and it sounded like more than two. Perry tightened his grip on the snub nosed revolver.

Whoever it was had bypassed the room where they were hiding and headed for the master bedroom. Something was off here. Why was there several people here? David Selkirk if looking for trophies would come alone.

Turning slightly, Perry whispered to Della, "Stay here. No matter what happens, stay here."

Della grabbed his arm, and whispered harshly, "No! You're not going without me."

"Della, I don't have time to argue. Please, just stay here! Trust me."

Damn him! She gave a nod that he couldn't see but felt against his shoulder. "You've got two minutes! After that, all bets are off!" she whispered sharply.

He took the gun from his pocket and pressed into hers. "Use this if you have to."

Before Della could protest further, Perry eased open the door, and silently thanking God, that they didn't squeak, he moved toward the hallway.

She started to count as soon as he disappeared. She meant what she said about two minutes, and the counting helped to calm her a bit.

Della tried to slow her breathing; a full blown panic wasn't going to help anything, and if Perry Mason thought she was going to wait here, hidden, while he might be killed, then he had another thing coming.

She eased the door open slightly and couldn't see anything. The last of the sun's rays were fading and that didn't help. Taking a step out of the closet, Della didn't see Perry in the room.

Suddenly there were screams and Perry's loud voice booming. Not waiting a second longer, Della Street, 70 year old sleuth and Girl Friday, raced down the hallway to the master bedroom.

Breathless from fear for Perry's safety, she banged the door jamb with her left shoulder as she entered, gun held steady in her right and shouted with authority, "Hold it right there!"


	16. Chapter 16

The Best Part of Me:

Chapter 16

Detective Carmichael rubbed his hand across his eyes. Whether he was tired or frustrated, it was hard to tell, probably both.

"Tell me again, Miss Street, why you tried to shoot these young people," he asked wearily.

Perry could have warned him, but chose not to, as he watched Della narrow her eyes and her lips move in that pouty gesture that meant she was extremely peeved.

"I did not _try_ to shoot them, detective, if I had, they'd be shot!" Her voice was low and steely. It was all Perry could do not to laugh at the look on Carmichael's face.

"I heard screams. I was afraid Perry was in danger and I came after him. How was I to know that ghoulish teenagers had broken in and were looking for excitement from someone else's tragedy?" By now, she was standing and had moved closer to the detective.

Perry decided it was time to step in. "I think we've all had a very exciting night. Both of us," indicating Della and himself, "have a permit to carry a weapon. We had a legal right to be here and felt our lives may be in danger. Now when you get the culprits arraigned for breaking and entering, please let us know. And remember," the lawyer paused for emphasis, "We were here legally and with the permission of the family."

Taking Della gently by the elbow, he turned her away from Detective Carmichael who really didn't know he had bitten off more than he could chew. Della was no wilting hothouse flower and it was best to go before other words were exchanged, then Perry would be the hot head. He'd had enough of the detective's patronizing tone.

Leaving the house and getting into their rental car, Perry opened the door for Della on the passenger side.

"What?"

"I'm driving."

"Why? I'm fine, just fine!"

"You are NOT fine, Miss Street. You are hopping mad, and you need to catch your breath before we get home."

Turning to Perry, she said, "I did the right thing! I thought you were in danger."

Backing carefully through the patrol cars and the strobing lights around the Burger house, Perry didn't answer right away. After he was on the main thoroughfare, he finally spoke.

"You did what you had to do." The blue eyes sparkled and he smiled largely. "And I appreciate you're coming to my rescue, Annie Oakley."

Della rolled her eyes and folded her arms. "Oh, you! How did I know they were teenagers! Stupid, stupid teenagers!" She shook her head slowly as if disbelieving, then started laughing. "Did you see the looks on their faces?" My, Lord, I thought the tall boy was going to wet his pants!"

Perry was shaking with laughter, too. "So did I. And his plea, 'Please, please, lady, don't shoot us. We just wanted to see where it happened.' I'll bet that's the last time they go 'ghost hunting' or whatever they call it.

I already had scared them to death by appearing in the doorway, large as life in a black coat, and then booming out, 'What the hell are you doing here?' Your arrival with the pistol was very impressive, by the way. Good eye, steady aim. You had a good teacher, obviously."

Della cut her eyes at her partner, smiling. "Obviously. Of course, natural talent is important and a strong sense of presence."

"Oh, trust me, you had a 'strong sense of presence.' It's not an easy feat to make four teens these days to nearly pass out from fear at the sight of a woman of _your level of_ _maturity_ pointing a pistol at them." Perry couldn't stop laughing. "I'm proud of you, and thanks for trying to rescue me."

"What do you mean 'trying? ?' I did! They were still there until the police arrived; thank goodness, the neighbors heard the racket."

"Della, darling, I think they were afraid to move, lest you plug one of them."

"Good. I would have if they had hurt you." She stretched her arm across and rubbed his thick salt and pepper hair with her fingers. "Don't you ever leave me in another closet," she said, suddenly tugging his hair.

"Ouch! Got it, young lady. Where I go, you go."

"Promise?"

"On my mother's eyes and til death do us part." He reached across and placed his large hand on her thigh. "So you think getting the marriage license next week is too soon after all that's happened?"

"What? What marriage license? What are you talking about?"

"Last week, I asked you to marry me, and you said, and I quote, 'Whatever you say, Chief,' unquote. Are you telling me you're leaving me at the altar, jilting me, embarrassing me after the invitations have been sent out?"

Perry was enjoying this. Della hated when she knew he was telling the truth, but didn't remember how or when it happened.

"I...I. Don't-oh, dear. Detective Tovey is here," she said, as they pulled into the drive. "And so are Paul and Ken. Do you think they've heard?"

Perry turned to look at her and elevated an eyebrow in disbelief. "What do you think?"

Della uttered one of her few swear words, "Damn."

***************************P & D********************************

Detective Tovey balanced a cup of tea politely on his knee. "Let me make sure I understand correctly. You both wanted to take your own photos of the crime scene and had permission from the family. The unexpected arrival of the B & E'ers was nothing that could be predicted, still, you were very lucky. I'd advise you to stay close to your young friends or sons or whatever they are and, please, don't dismiss the cruiser again. The officer will be reprimanded for leaving his post without contacting his supervisor; he should have known better."

Placing his cup and saucer down on the teakwood tray, he said, "I am glad you're safe, and you have every right to continue to look into who may be threatening you, but I ask you to please consider your safety."

Della bristled but her voice smooth as honey didn't betray her, "Is that your polite way of telling us to mind our ages?"

Tovey smiled, "Not at all. You're older, not stupid or incapable or protecting yourselves. In fact, I admire both of you immensely. I have since I was a child." He appeared unexpectedly shy, "I am glad to know some of my heroes-and heroines-don't lose their shine no matter their ages."

He stood to go. "Be safe, and if you come up with anything, please let me know. Good night, Miss Street, Mr. Mason."

Perry walked him to the door as Della gathered the tea tray and bits and pieces. Neither of them had addressed Paul or Ken, though both of them looked quite put out from what they had heard so far of the adventure at the Burger house.

Della carried her tray to the kitchen, and Perry followed to help her. The two young men each took a stance on opposite sides of opening between the kitchen and den, arms crossed.

Finally, Ken spoke after being ignored long enough. "I thought you said you'd stay here?"

"No," Perry said, straightening up, "I said, 'Where else would we be.' There's a difference."

Paul was angry. "You put yourselves in danger. Neither of you even left a note or mentioned where you were going. What if something really bad had happened? What if it had been the murderer returning?"

Della started to speak, but Perry softly placed his hand on her shoulder, and they stood as a team, facing their 'children.'

"Let me be perfectly clear to both of you. Della and I were doing this long before either of you were a twinkle in your parents' eyes. We are quite capable of looking after ourselves. We appreciate your concern, and we will try to be more communicative, but do not treat us like children. We are older, not handicapped or mentally deficient. We will be treated with respect and as fully functioning adults. Any questions?"

Both young men looked embarrassed, but Paul said, "Did it ever occur that we worry because we care about you, maybe even love you, you stubborn old lion?"

Della smiled up at Perry, silently asking him to soften his words. "Yes, that's why we're offering you an explanation. Otherwise, we'd tell you to mind your own damn business. Now, let's discuss what you found out today."

Gathering around the kitchen table, Ken relayed his meeting with the former Mrs. Selkirk, David's mother.

"She says he's dangerous and obsessed with making the people pay who took his 'real' father from him. When I asked her who those people might be, she said she had no idea. I don't believe her. I asked her if she included herself in that group, and she looked pretty uncomfortable. She also said, David's grandfather did leave him a trust, but that she had no access to it or had no idea where David was nor had he been in contact with her son since his release."

"Paul," Perry asked.

"Mr. Selkirk, Sr., left 2.1 million dollars to our prime psycho suspect and it is kept at the Wells Fargo, downtown San Bernardino branch on W. Myrtle Vista. I gathered that he has access from any ATM anywhere to draw on the interest or the entirety of his fortune."

Perry steepled his hands, and spoke, "So we have an angry, unhinged man looking to settle an imagined slight, who is free and has plenty of money at his disposal. Any idea where he might be? Anything from the mother? Ken?"

"Nothing certain. I'd suggest visiting the hospital and checking out any former friends or roommates."

"Good idea." Della looked exhausted and it had been a trying day. "We're calling it a night, gentlemen. If you two want to stay, you're welcome to do so, or if you want to get a jump on getting to Del Mar, we'll be fine with the officers outside. I don't think they'll be leaving again."

Paul and Ken exchanged glances, "We'd like to go tonight," Paul said. "Will you both promise to be extra careful, please." He reached for Della's hand, knowing the soft spot in the pair who would most likely acquiesce to his request.

A gentle and loving smile lit Della's face. She reached over to pat his cheek, and said sweetly, "We will try our best."

Rolling his eyes, "I guess that's the best I can get." Passing by Perry Mason, he leaned down and said, in a loud stage whisper, "Take care of my girl; she's the only mother I have."

Paul started to move on and seemed to change his mind. Placing his hand on Mason's shoulder, he nervously added, "And you're the only father I have now. I'd like to keep you."

The door slammed behind him as he hastily went after Ken.

Perry and Della looked at each other a tad guiltily. Then Della mischievously, "Pa Mason, would you like to join me upstairs?"

Rising and kissing her forehead, he softly growled, "Yes, I would, Ma Street. Let's hit the sack."

Turning off the lights downstairs, the couple headed to their room.

Downstairs, Festus was curled in a Queen Anne armchair when a scraping sound caught his attention. His eyes opened a small golden sliver. The noise stopped. If it was important, it would return and then he would deal with it.


	17. Chapter 17

***First, I would like to thank all the Perry Mason and Della Street fans who have made writing this story such a blast! To think that I can write a story which makes others happy, because you all love the characters as well as I do, pleases me to no end. I have done my best to have them stay true to 'who they are' in the show and books. Peace

The Best Part of Me:

Chapter 17

Evening ablutions concluded, Perry and Della finally made it into bed. It had been an emotional day visiting the Burger home and then the teenagers intruding on what was already a tense situation. But, like most couples, they had their bedtime rituals which helped put the day in perspective and helped them to relax. Only romance or exhaustion changed their routine. Romantic interruptions were frequent, but weren't relegated to just bedtime, nor had it ever been.

Reading was part of their evening routine. Neither of them liked to go to sleep without reading or discussing their day. Most of the time they did both. Tonight was no exception.

Perry exchanged his regular glasses for reading glasses and Della picked up the latest murder mystery she had purchased.

"Don't you get enough of that during the day?" Perry frowned over at her choice of reading material.

Cocking an eyebrow and tilting her head, she remarked, "Do I question why you read law journals when you could write your own? No. I like reading about how the justice system works in different countries."

"For instance," Perry challenged.

"Ken Bruen," she offered the novel to him.

"Irish author, huh? Any good?"

"I like him. He's an alcoholic with a lot of bad memories to erase and is just making his way in the world, doing the best he can."

"Irish and alcoholic? That's stereotyping, if I've ever heard it." Perry looked at her speculatively over his glasses, "When did you give up romance novels?"

She frowned at his criticism of her reading material, but her good nature won out as always, "I got tired of reading about idiotic women being saved by men who weren't worthy of them. Besides why would I read about it, when I have the most romantic man in the world right here?" Della leaned close and they kissed softly.

Perry leaned back, "Good point. Keep reading, my beautiful lass."

Della's low laughter followed him back to his law journal.

"You know, if you're interested in international intrigue, Jack Higgins-" Della stopped.

"What is it?" Perry asked.

"I thought I heard something." She shook her head, "Probably that crazy cat. I think he takes crack at night and runs wild," she said, going back to her book.

"'Crack!' Where did you hear about that?" Perry was taken aback. "_How _did you hear about that? Crack is a street drug that isn't even that widely-"

This time the sound was louder. A thump, like someone bumping into furniture in the dark.

Perry grabbed Della's arm, "Call 911. Tell them we think we have an intruder." He got off the bed and locked the bedroom door.

"Perry! There's no dial tone. The phone's dead!" Della's voice was quiet, but he knew she was frightened.

The noises downstairs were louder. It sounded like someone smashing things in anger or for the fun of it. Perry knew if David Selkirk had cut the phone lines, then he knew he had them trapped upstairs. The man was trying to prolong their terror by letting them know he could come upstairs anytime he wanted.

"I left the damn gun downstairs," Perry said in frustration and disgust. Leaning against the chest of drawers, he pushed it against the door. That would slow Selkirk down a bit.

The large man strode to the window, unlocked it, and pushed it open.

"Della, get dressed! Hurry. Just slacks and a sweater; hurry!"

She grabbed her shoes as well and slipped them on. Perry, meanwhile, had gone to the closet and retrieved an emergency fire ladder. He began to unfold it and let it quietly down the outside of the house.

"Hurry, Perry!" Della exclaimed as the noise grew louder. "Get dressed."

"I'm not going. You're going to get the two officers in the car."

"No! I am not going through this again! You're com-"

He grasped her upper arms and gently shook her. "Della, honey, _you've got to go_. I couldn't make it down if I wanted. You are have to go. Now!" Perry was remembering the police report and what had been done to Yvette Burger.

"_Perry-"_

Suddenly a voice came from somewhere downstairs, a sing song voice, "Where are you, Mr. Lawyer? I'm here and I need to talk to you; you see I have this problem."

Wild laughter, then quiet. Now closer, the voice, "You see, I've committed a murder, and I need rep-re-sen-ta-tion! And you. are. the. best. You know how I know? Because you ruined my life!" The man's voice bordered on hysterical. "You KILLED MY FATHER!"

"Della, go!" Perry half dragged her to the window, helped her line up backwards to go down the ladder. She looked back up at him, her eyes wide with fear for him, "Perry, please," she begged, her voice hoarse.

"I love you, Della. Now go!" he said, harshly. She nodded and started down the ladder.

Watching until she made it to the ground, Perry then unhooked the ladder from the window and dropped it below, then closed the window.

Returning to the door that separated him from a madman, the lawyer bellowed back, "Mr. Selkirk, you're right. I think we need to talk!"

****************************P & D***************************************

Della ran around the back of the house to the cruiser that was parked at the curb. The officers took turns patrolling the house and grounds. Reaching the car, she leaned on the hood, trying to catch her breath, neither officer moved to help her.

Moving to the window, she pounded on it, finally opening the door. "What are you doing? Didn't you see me?"

The dead officer fell onto her legs as he crashed to the lawn, his throat cut. Strangling back a scream, she rushed to the other side of the car and opened the door. Gurgling sounds were coming from the young man's chest.

First things first. Reaching across him, she grabbed the phone connecting her to dispatch.

"Hello, hello? Is anyone there?"

"Ma'am, this is an official police band, please identify yourself."

"This is Della Street. I am at 1701 Janeway Avenue. We have an intruder in our house and the officers who were stationed here are down. Did you hear me? Officer down. One dead, one injured. It sounds like a sucking chest wound. We need help; Perry Mason is locked in the house with the killer-"

"Ma'am! Stay in the car and on the radio with me. We are dispatching officers now, along with an ambulance."

Della had already discarded the receiver. Grabbing the keys, she opened the trunk looking for a first aid kit. Opening it, she grabbed the tape and headed back to the front to the officer. Reaching across him, she snatched up the sandwich bag that was discarded on the dash.

Tearing open his shirt, she could see a bubbling wound below his heart. Ripping the sandwich bag, she spread it over the hole and using the tape, sealed it over the wound as best she could. The bubbling stopped. The man was still breathing and that's the best she could do right now.

Della unbuckled the snap and removed his service revolver. Sticking it in the waistband of her pants under her shirt, she moved back to the trunk. Moving and throwing things around, she couldn't find what she was looking for until she struck her head sharply on the trunk lid. Looking up, there was a Winchester .12 gauge shotgun. Jerking it free of its restraints, Della grabbed it, racked a round, and ran for the house.


	18. Chapter 18

The Best Part of Me

Chapter 18

"Did you hear me, David? I'm coming out. I want to talk." Perry shoved the furniture away from the bedroom door. He didn't bother to take time to wonder if this was a good idea. It was something he had to do. Period. It would give Della the necessary time to get away, plus distract the man downstairs. The elderly lawyer meeting him face to face probably wasn't something that David Selkirk had anticipated, but the lunatic surely wanted.

Perry opened the bedroom door cautiously, peering down the hallway. Making his way to the stairs, he carefully carried his cane in one hand and held onto the rail, all the while watching and waiting to see if the man would ambush him. It didn't seem his style; Selkirk seemed like the kind who liked to tear the wings off the butterfly just to watch it squirm.

The stairway ended in the living room where Perry found David Selkirk standing across the room, knife in hand, a strange smile on his face. Pleasure at such an unexpected surprise.

"David. I didn't anticipate meeting you like this again. Please have a seat. Would you like a drink?" Perry's voice and manner was smooth as ice.

Selkirk was surprised that the older man appeared to be unafraid of him. He watched Mason make two drinks, place one in front of an armchair, while the lawyer held a drink and took the one across from it. Calmly the attorney took a sip.

"What are you up to, old man?"

"I am extending hospitality to a guest, unwanted, uninvited, but nevertheless, you are here. You have the knife. I am unarmed, and you did say that you needed a lawyer." Perry's voice was convincing but his eyes were like blue flames.

Selkirk moved to the chair and took the drink, while holding the knife menacingly. Leaning back in the chair, he took a small sip and smiled. "Trust you, Mason, to have only the best." His attitude changed instantly, "So where is the woman?"

"She isn't here."

"You're a liar," Selkirk spat back at him.

"Search the house. You'll find out for yourself. There is no woman here." The self-assurance in Mason's voice was convincing.

"Then where is she?"

"Let me ask you a question, David? _Why are you here_?"

"You took something from me. My stepfather was the best thing that ever happened to me. My father was a cruel and hateful man. Ralph Jennings was—he didn't deserve what happened to him!" Selkirk's voice was loud, nearly yelling.

"So you intend to take my life in return? Is that it? Like you killed Yvette Burger, an innocent woman who had nothing to do with your stepfather being convicted for murder."

"She had something to do with it. She loved that bastard, Burger. He's the one who was responsible for Ralph's conviction, but," Selkirk's eyes were a trifle unfocused, "Burger wasn't around. Mrs. Burger was, so someone had to pay."

Where the hell were those officers, Perry thought. It shouldn't be taking this long.

"So, you're here, and I'm the one responsible for ferreting out the murderer of your father. I am the only one left." Perry Mason's eyes were hard and his face set like granite.

David Selkirk passed his thumb along the blade of the large serrated hunting knife. "Mr. Mason, have you noticed that life never quite turns out like we expect it to? I wish I had accidentally killed my father. That I could live with, but losing Ralph and my mother. I wish I had been the one to die. From the moment Ralph Jennings left, I was an orphan. My mother hated me and sent me away." The movements with the knife were becoming faster and more frantic.

"I'm not here for you, Mr. Mason. I'm here for what you love the most—or who in this case. The best part of you. The part that makes your life worth living, your wife."

Perry's insides seemed to freeze and he knew that he couldn't let this maniac leave the house. Dead or alive, he had to be stopped.

Selkirk continued, "Then, I will find young Mr. Drake, and he will pay for the sins of his father. It's all Biblical, really, don't you think? You took someone I loved, my father, who could have changed the course of my life, and now, I am going to change the course of yours." He smiled, a reptilian look in his eyes as he tried to judge Perry's reaction.

"I hate to tell you, David, but you've miscalculated. I don't have a wife." Perry calmly took a drink from his tumbler and waited for Selkirk's reaction.

Selkirk laughed. He almost sounded sane, as if Perry had told an old well-known joke.

"Mr. Attorney-at-Law, best criminal defense in the country, even I know better than that. She may not be your wife in name, but she is your wife. _Della._"

The way Selkirk said it made Perry's skin crawl. He knew what this madman had done to Yvette Burger. Raped, mutilated her while still alive until she bled out. Never would he allow this animal to hurt his Della.

"_Della_, like the woman in the O. Henry story who was willing to sacrifice everything for the man she loved, her husband. What was the name of the story? Oh, come, counselor, I'm sure an educated man like yourself knows the story."

Walking around Perry, he pressed the large blade to the corner of his captive's eye. "What is it, Mason?"

"_The Gift of the Magi_."

"The BEST that the wise men had to offer. The best Della had to offer. Beautiful story. Ironic ending though, wouldn't you say, Mr. Mason?

I guess Della would be your _common-law_ wife. Is that the term, counselor? Once a couple are together for so many years, you are considered _common-law_ husband and wife. I read a little law when I was _away_; I had a bit of time on my hands." Selkirk removed the knife from Perry's eye and crossed back across to his chair, calmly taking a drink from his glass; all the while, his eyes never left the older man's.

"Such a shame, really, Mason," he continued his torment, leaning down on the table to look into the other man's burning blue eyes. "Your _Della_ is quite beautiful still, but you didn't marry her. I wonder why? Well, no matter. Killing _her_ will," David rose from the chair and leaned on the table toward Perry, "Not physically hurt _you_, but **it will cut out your** **soul**, and that hurts a lot worse; trust me."

Perry Mason struck with the cane as hard as he could against Selkirk's arms and was rewarded with the crack of bone. Not waiting a moment, he went as fast as he could go toward the drawer where he kept the gun. His hand was on the handle when he felt a sharp burning pain in his life side, once, twice—then—**BOOM**!

The large man fell to the floor, the world red and black with pain. He tried to move his arm to find from where the pain emanated. Perry felt weak and nauseous.

Della. Della was here! He could hear her voice!

He tried to tell her to get out. To run, but he couldn't talk. His lips moved, didn't they? Why couldn't he talk? Somewhere in the distance, sirens sounded. His last thought was of his wife.


	19. Chapter 19

The Best Part of Me:

Chapter 19

Della Street took the Winchester and ran around to the window where Perry had dropped the fire ladder. It lay in a pool of chain and metal. Dammit! She should have anticipated what he would do to protect her.

In the distance she could barely make out the sounds of sirens. Once Selkirk heard the police coming, God knew what he might do.

Making her way around the house, she stopped outside the large kitchen window and saw-nothing. Ducking down, carefully with the shotgun, she moved to the small octagon shaped window beside the fireplace. There in her living room sat Perry and David Selkirk, bold as brass, as if they were having tea and cookies. He was trying to hold Selkirk's attention until help could arrive, but suddenly, Perry used his cane to knock the intruder's arms off the table..

Della knew there was no way that Perry, with that bad leg and weight, was going to get away in time. Running back around to the front door, she knew that if she braced the gun against her shoulder she was probably going to hit the ground before Selkirk did. Holding the barrel at hip level she fired right into the door handle and lock. The front door flew open, but the recoil pulled the weapon out of her hands and it flew backward onto the lawn.

A blur of movement caught her eye. Selkirk had his knife in the air reaching for Perry.

"No!" she screamed moving into the room. Reaching under her shirt, she pulled the fallen officer's service revolver and aimed at Selkirk's chest and fired.

Everything was a blur. Perry was down and bleeding; Selkirk was jumping through the air and slamming into her. The gun went flying from her hands across the room.

Both of them fell to the floor, but Selkirk was wounded, his shoulder bleeding profusely. Della scrambled to grab the gun, but the madman was not giving up.

He got to his feet and stumbled to get the gun. He was closer and she knew it was probably over for both her and Perry if he managed to get it.

A loud shriek followed by hissing caused Selkirk to look down and Festus was between his legs and not too happy about it. The cat sank his claws deeply into the man's leg. Festus had been hidden beneath the sofa, but with the shooting and screaming, he'd had all he could take. Selkirk was trying to remove the cat and that gave Della the extra seconds she needed, as she barely reached the gun first.

Her fingers closed around the grip of the revolver, and so did David Selkirk's. Wrestling over the gun, neither of them heard the police cruisers. He overpowered Della, shoved her down, and stood up, pointing the gun at her.

"Lovely Della, it is simply too bad that your beloved Mr. Mason won't be able to witness this. I guess I'll have to do."

Della didn't have time to close her eyes or even flinch before she heard, "Drop it, LAPD! Now!" The house was surrounded with flashing lights and patrol cars. One of their own was dead and another may not make it. They were out for blood and if Selkirk so much as twitched, he was not going to walk out-and he knew it. He cocked the pistol and moved closer to Della when three shots rang out, all hitting him in the chest.

It took more than a minute for her to realize that she wasn't shot, but that David Selkirk was down, still alive and looking at her. He gave Della a strange smile and said, "I remember wiggling my ears for you. You betrayed me, too."

Police and EMT personnel filled the house. Selkirk was up and gone on the first stretcher.

A nice police sergeant helped Della to her feet and over to Perry where the paramedics were working on stopping the bleeding. One of the EMT's place a blanket around her shoulders as she knelt down as close as she could get.

"Is he alive? Oh, God, please, tell me he's alive?"

"Yes, ma'am, he's got a good pulse and strong heart beat. Respirations are good, but he's shocky, so we need to get moving. His, uh, well, extra padding may have helped to keep the knife from going too far in."

Della didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so she did both.

******************P & D************************************************

"Della! Are you ready yet?"

"I'm coming. After all this time, wouldn't you at least like me to have on shoes?

Perry laughed, "Della, I would marry you barefoot and-"

"Hold it, Counselor! I'm ready."

Perry took her in his arms and kissed her firmly.

"Kenneth, Paul, we're ready to go," Della called when she came up for air.

Ken took Della's arm and escorted Della to the white limo at the curb. Paul hung back with Perry.

"Can I ask you something, Pops?"

"Is it about the birds and the bees because it's a little late now? And this is a wonderfully happy day, that's why I am letting you by with the 'Pop's' comment. What do you want to know?"

"How did you get Della to agree to marry you?"

Perry smiled broadly. "I explained to her the concept of 'common law' marriage. When she realized we had already been 'technically' married for a long time and she didn't care for the term "common law," she finally saw the light."

Paul was still laughing when they got into the car.

As the limo pulled away toward the courthouse, Paul thought he'd never seen the two of them so happy. Perry couldn't stop smiling and Della couldn't keep her hands off the old man. Until Della patted Perry on the leg, and said, "Dear, I don't mind you sneaking a smoke occasionally, but would you not drop the butts near the front steps."


End file.
